X-COM: Resurrection
by Meshakhad
Summary: To fight the future, we turn to the past. To confront the alien threat, X-COM resurrects Earth's greatest warriors.
1. Resurrection

March 1, 2015

Jeanne woke up.

Which is odd, because she didn't remember going to sleep.

She was in a white room. The walls were white. The floor was made of white tiles. Her sheets were white. The bedframe was painted white. She was wearing a simple gown of rough white fabric. Even the old man sitting at her bedside was wearing white. The only noticeably non-white thing was a large wooden crucifix hanging from the wall.

The man looked up at her. His expression was warm and kindly. He spoke in an odd accent:

"Bon matin, mademoiselle."

Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you? Where am I?"

The man smiled. "I am Pope Francis, Bishop of Rome," he said simply.

Jeanne's eyes, which had been heavy with sleep, flew open. She had never heard of a Pope Francis, but she knew it was true. She sat up and bowed her head. "Your Holiness…" she began, but the Pope cut her off.

"Careful, my child. You have been through a lot. Besides, it is my judgment that even the Holy Father must show deference when in the presence of a saint."

_A saint? Me? How is that possible?_

She stared at him, mouth agape. Francis looked down, then back at her. "Perhaps I should just give you the whole story." He took a deep breath, and Jeanne lay back in her bed.

"You were burned at the stake by the English for heresy in 1431. France ultimately defeated the English, ending what is known as the Hundred Years' War. In 1456, following a formal investigation by the Church, the trial was found to be invalid, and you were declared a martyr. You were beatified in 1909, and in 1920, you were canonized by Pope Benedict XV."

It was all too much to handle. France's victory was no surprise – why would He have called her if He did not intend for France to prevail? And she could comprehend being made a martyr, although it struck her as prideful to think of herself that way. But to be canonized… and the date…

"What year is this?" she asked, her voice weak.

"Today is the first of March, in the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Fifteen."

Two thousand and fifteen… Jeanne had never been skilled at mathematics, but even she could figure out that she had been dead for centuries.

Francis continued, this time more gravely.

"The world has seen many changes since your death. But perhaps none more so than recently. On January 5th, a strange object fell from the sky in Stuttgart, Germany. A team of elite soldiers was sent in to investigate. They learned that the object had carried several aliens – beings from other worlds. The soldiers fought the aliens… and were nearly wiped out. The only survivor has lost her leg and will never walk again. So the nations of the world formed an organization called X-COM, intended to defend this planet from outside threat."

He paused again, and looked at Jeanne.

"And then came the Lazarus Project. X-COM's scientists found a way to resurrect the dead. I do not know the details. But I have seen others they have brought back, and they possess not only the appearance of their former selves, but their memories, personalities… even, I believe, their souls. So I gave my blessing for them to bring you back as well. We need you, Saint Jeanne. You will join a team of the greatest warriors in human history. All of you have been given knowledge of modern weapons and technology, as well as knowledge of the English language. I wish I could say they were all virtuous sons and daughters of the Church, but that is not the case. Most are heretics or infidels. Some are guilty of horrible crimes. Nevertheless, they are all famed in history for their exploits on the battlefield, and they are all human."

Jeanne nodded. She wasn't sure she understood the concept of aliens, but she understood the idea of joining together with others for a common cause. And if they could bring her back, then it made sense to bring others back, others who could fight against a common foe.

"I have three things for you, Saint Jeanne," Francis said. He reached down to a small bag, and opened it, withdrawing a rolled up piece of paper. He handed it to her, and she opened it. To her surprise, she could read the words perfectly.

"This is a Papal Bull, declaring a defensive Crusade to preserve the whole of the Earth. I have called upon all Catholic nations to support X-COM and provide assistance. And I have commanded you, Saint Jeanne, to join X-COM and represent the Church in this matter."

He withdrew another piece of paper, and handed it to her.

"This is a letter from François Hollande, President of the Republic of France, appointing you to the rank of Brigade General in the Army of France, and commanding you to represent France within X-COM."

Jeanne nodded again. "Thank you, your Holiness. And the third thing?"

Francis smiled, and reached behind his chair, pulling out a sheathed sword.

"When you are well, you will be given modern weapons. But I thought you might like this. It is a sword worthy of a crusader… and a sign that we trust you."

Jeanne took the sword. She drew it partially, and examined the blade. It was simple and unadorned, yet beautiful at the same time. As she laid it across her lap, Francis stood.

"And now, the time has come for me to go. Rest, Saint Jeanne. You will need your strength in the coming days."

"May the Lord watch over you."


	2. Strange New World

March 5, 2015

Jeanne studied the shotgun on the table in front of her.

Until today, she had never seen such a weapon before. But when she held the weapon in her hands it felt natural. Running the assault course with it had been exhilarating. It had felt like she had done this a hundred times before. She'd even been able to disassemble and reassemble the weapon, despite having no mechanical skill herself.

She knew why. While she and the other "warriors", as they were being called, had been recruited for their innate combat skills, they also came from earlier times. But just as Pope Francis had said to her, the X-COM scientists had grafted the knowledge of others onto the warriors. Jeanne was intimately familiar with the use of modern firearms, despite having no memory of using them before.

Well, that wasn't quite accurate. The knowledge had been taken from people – modern soldiers. Jeanne occasionally caught flashes, fragments of memory. She had been assured that the soldiers had willingly undergone the brain scans. But to have direct access to the experiences of others… it was unsettling.

There had been other information that the scientists had given her. That English had become the world's leading language put a foul taste in her mouth. She had been called to fight the English, and they had burned her at the stake. Pope Francis had been kind enough to speak French with her, but everyone else spoke only English. The only silver lining was that in addition to teaching her to speak English, they'd also taught her how to read it. Being able to open up a Bible and read the words herself had been a beautiful experience. And as she had soon learned, if she could read English, she could read French as well.

The scientists had also given her some familiarity with modern technology. One of the nurses had made a bad joke about it being witchcraft, but she had already known that in their substance, guns, computers, and planes were no different from crossbows, looms, or trebuchets. They were just tools, made by skilled artisans. And if she'd had any question about whether or not they had improved the world, the Wikipedia article on the history of agriculture had quashed those.

When Jeanne had been eleven, a summer drought had produced a poor harvest in much of France. That winter had been hard, and many had not survived. Her uncle Eduard had lost his infant son. And Jeanne's friend Marie had lost two of her brothers, and her mother. But had they lived in modern France, they would all have lived. In fact, they wouldn't have noticed anything beyond higher prices at the market.

The door to the armory opened, and a short, stocky man with a weathered face stepped through, carrying a sniper rifle. He nodded to her, set the rifle down on the table next to her, and began cleaning it, just as she had done with her shotgun. Jeanne's mouth twitched with humor.

"Another perfect score?" she asked.

Simo Häyha shrugged. "I have been shooting guns all my life," he replied. "It is important to practice."

Jeanne liked Simo. He was very humble, even – especially – when it came to his marksmanship. She had recalled an archer – Oscar d'Avignon – who was constantly bragging about his skills, and would frequently shoot birds out of the sky just to show that he could. Simo didn't seem to care, despite the fact that had Finland been a monarchy, he would probably have been given a lordship in recognition of his achievements.

Jeanne's reverie was broken by the wail of a siren, followed by a female voice over the intercom:

"_Attention: all senior personnel, report to the briefing room."_

Both Jeanne and Simo shot to their feet. Jeanne had no personal experience with these announcements, but she'd been imprinted with it. They dashed out of the armory, and headed to the briefing room.

* * *

The briefing room wasn't all that different from a medieval war council. The room itself was the size of a large tent, and there was a long table in the middle. The difference was that instead of looking at a map in the middle, everyone was focused on one of the TV screens built into the wall.

As they waited for everyone to arrive, Jeanne looked at the other occupants of the room. Out of all the strange things about this new world, the strangest of all were Jeanne's new comrades.

The first X-COM squad had been drawn from the best soldiers the world had to offer. All four had years of service, exemplary combat records, and numerous decorations. Four had walked into that building in Stuttgart. One had been carried out on a stretcher. The other three had been carried out in body bags. It would be up to the warriors to do the fighting from now on. So far, five, including Jeanne herself, had been released from medical.

Simo Häyha had been the first. Of all of them, he'd had the easiest time adjusting to the modern world. That was probably because he'd died just thirteen years earlier. He knew about guns and cars and computers. In fact, he'd even discovered that the e-mail account he'd set up two years before his death was still active. And when he'd woken up, he'd been greeted by his own children. Also, when X-COM had compiled its list of historical warriors to resurrect, he'd been the first to be chosen. No one had argued about putting the greatest sniper of all time into their squad. He and Jeanne had gotten along quite well.

The same could not be said for Genghis Khan. He was a bear of a man, with broad shoulders, powerful limbs, and a long beard of straight red hair. Jeanne might not have had much in the way of formal schooling, but even she had heard of the ferocious Mongol hordes that had still threatened the edges of Europe. When she'd first met him in person, Genghis had looked at her the way men often looked at women. And he showed no sign of regret for the atrocities he'd committed – indeed, he seemed proud of them. He was certainly eager to get into the fight against the aliens. Jeanne didn't trust him at all.

The hardest to figure out was Ragnar Lothbrok. Ragnar wasn't as big as Genghis, but no man would call him small or weak. He had a sturdy frame, short blond hair, and icy blue eyes. Like Genghis, he was eager for battle. Like Genghis, he was a pagan. And while Genghis had mostly slaughtered other pagans and Muslims, Ragnar had fought and killed Christians. But where Genghis had been initially skeptical of Jeanne's worth as a fighter, Ragnar had called her "a Christian shieldmaiden". He'd even become her sparring partner, and never once had he disrespected her. He, too, had thrown her a few glances, but most men did. The odd thing about Ragnar was that he generally only looked at her that way after their sparring matches.

And finally, there was Tesla. He wasn't a warrior, at least not in the sense of possessing any modicum of fighting skill. He'd been resurrected for his mind. According to his profile, Nikola Tesla had been a great scientist and artisan, devising numerous technologies. Tesla was almost as tall as Genghis, but he was much thinner, with dark hair, grey eyes, and a well-groomed mustache. Where the warriors wore combat fatigues, Tesla wore a modern suit. He seemed remarkably composed at the moment.

All of them hailed from different time periods and nations. All had vastly different worldviews and experiences. But they shared the common ground of being out of time. Even Simo had to adapt to this new world. It set them apart from the others – the "modern" members of X-COM.

Central Officer Jeremy Bradford wore a green T-shirt with the X-COM insignia sewn over his breast. His hair was thinning slightly, and he had a microphone headset on. He seemed rather uncomfortable at the moment, probably because two weeks ago, he'd been in charge. He'd overseen the first mission into Stuttgart, and his poor tactics had resulted in disaster. To his credit, Bradford hadn't tried to deflect any blame. And it had been the first encounter with the aliens. Rather than dismissing him entirely, Bradford had been demoted. He was in charge of administration, which nearly everyone agreed was his strong suit. Still, he would never escape the shame of having gotten men killed.

Dr. Angela Vahlen wore a green-white labcoat over her dark green turtleneck. The Swiss-born scientist was slender, had her blonde hair tied in a bun, and was always carrying a tablet computer. She was also responsible for resurrecting the warriors, which generally endeared her to them. Unlike most of the staff, she seemed eager to learn more about the aliens. Jeanne had originally assumed it was mere curiosity, but after speaking with her on several occasions, she'd come to understand that Vahlen was just as determined to defeat the aliens as anyone else, and believed that science would provide the answer. She actually reminded Jeanne of some of the more fanatical priests she'd known.

Dr. Raymond Shen was Vahlen's physical opposite. He was stocky, mostly bald with some grey hair, and wore spectacles. He seemed a lot more grim, and didn't strike Jeanne as particularly brilliant. But he was an engineer, with over forty years of experience working for the American Department of Defense. In addition to running the maintenance and fabrication teams, he'd also overseen the original construction of X-COM headquarters, and would perform the same role for the expansions currently underway.

The last to enter the room was Captain Victoria Silver, the new commander of X-COM. Silver was a veteran of the Australian Special Air Service regiment, having served with distinction in Afghanistan. More importantly, she was the sole survivor of the Stuttgart operation… and the only living human being to have faced aliens in battle. Her left leg had been burnt off by an alien plasma pistol, so she used a motorized wheelchair to get around. The way she carried herself, it might as well have been a throne.

"What do we have?" she asked curtly, after returning everyone's salutes.

Bradford manipulated the controls for the main screen. It was currently showing a map of Africa. The X-COM insignia marked their headquarters in the Ethiopian mountains. A flashing red dot was centered on a city on the southern coast of West Africa.

"We've received reports of alien abductions in Lagos, Nigeria," he said. "The Nigerian government has declared a state of emergency and has ordered an evacuation of much of the city. They've formally requested our assistance to deal with the situation."

Silver nodded. "Do we have any intelligence on the enemy?" she asked. "Numbers? Composition?"

Bradford shrugged. "Nothing solid. Apart from media accounts, the only reports we have are from the police. They've confirmed that at least three devices similar to the one from Stuttgart have landed in downtown Lagos, and they believe there are aliens moving around, but no direct sightings. Best guess is that this is a smaller incursion."

Silver inhaled deeply, and turned to the warriors. "Suit up. I want you to hit Lagos, find out what's happening, and kill every damn alien in the city."

Jeanne stood, and saluted Captain Silver. "Yes, ma'am!"


End file.
